Comatose
by A.J.Kester
Summary: We all know the story of our boys in the Glade and all of their adventures, but what if all of it was just a dream? All of it was just Thomas in a coma for a year. And most importantly, what happens when he wakes up? (This is the second version of this story. It has also been edited and the formatting issues have been fixed)
1. Waking Up

**A.N.** So I have actually finished Comatose completely. But, during this process I have re-edited and both cut and added new pieces to make it (in my opinion) a better story overall.

It's a little different, but mostly still the same. Have fun!

 **Disclaimer:** Nothing is mine. I do not own any part of the Maze Runner franchise, or anything else that I might mention in this fic.

 **Waking Up**

 **Thomas**

Opening my eyes is the hardest thing I've ever done. Blinking is hell, it takes me long seconds to open and close my eyes again and again until my vision is somewhat clear. I push myself up onto my elbows and it seems to take hours. I suddenly realize that I have no idea where I am.

I rifle through the survival tactics that Newt crammed in my head before he died. "Always find the exit first. It's most important to know where you need to be in order to escape." Just thinking about my lost love calms me down a little. I imagine him there, next to me, telling me what to do. I finally find the strength to look around the room.

I'm in some room. The walls are painted a dark army style solid green and the bed I'm in is big, obviously a double. As details expand and my senses slowly crawl back to me I notice that there is an IV in my arm. Along the wall to my right there are posters, paintings, and pictures. At the end of the wall is the door to the room. It's white and it's pushed all the way open. On the wall across from me, there is another door, then a desk, followed by third door. The desk is light wash wood and placed on it is a vase full of flowers. The wall to my left is lined with a dresser, a large window that the blinds cover and two bookshelves.

The door farther to the left is pushed open and Chuck comes from behind it. His eyes meet mine and my jaw drops, then does his. My jaw sweeps the floor and before I can stop them, hot tears are rolling down my cheeks. This isn't real; this is some trick, some other trial. A sob rips through my chest and suddenly I'm balling like a newborn. I can't stop it; I can't hold it in anymore. It's all just too much. I let my body be heavy and I crash back into the bed. This new position does nothing to dampen my sobs. I cry for everything I've seen, everything I've lost. Soon snot starts to run down my face. I know I must look horrible, but I don't care, Chuck is somehow back from the dead and I can't handle anything more.

I'm still too much in shock, so I don't notice what he's saying until he's yelling it loud and at the top of his lungs.

"Mrs. Boyd! Mrs. Boyd!"

"Ch-chuck. What... How... You're dead." My voice is hoarse, it sounds like I've eaten sand and it feels even worse. I try to contain the tears some but I can't, the fight against my own emotions is fruitless. I vaguely hear Chuck continue screaming and bang out of the room. I guess, there are some things that even death can't cure, Chuck is still a bumbling oaf.

"Mrs. Boyd! Mrs. Boyd!"

I stare at the ceiling above me. How is he alive? I'm so confused. What is happening? I the tears increase as I think about Newt. My beautiful Newt. I love him more than the earth, more than the air. Is he still gone? I think back to that horrible moment, the moment they killed Chuck.

So much has happened since then, but how can Chuck be alive? And he looked different. Clean, better, not so stressed. But who the hell is Mrs. Boyd? And where the hell am I?

Chuck comes back into the room and tailing him is a woman. She must've been really beautiful when she was younger but greying hair and worry lines ruin her appearance. She reaches out to me and I retreat back on the bed so I'm pressed against the headboard. I look to Chuck, trying to understand why he brought her here, why he isn't fighting her.

I look at her hands, they're the hands of someone hardworking. They're dry and her pale skin is cracking. I don't know this woman, yet I feel a strange pull toward her, like I should let her pull me into her arms and rock me until everything else is gone.

"Thomas, baby. It's me, it's mommy." Her voice is soft and it sounds like it's soothed many children.

"My mother is dead." I state it plainly but my mind is reeling. How could this woman be my mother? Tears spill down onto her cheeks. Then the most absurd thing I've ever seen happens. Chuck goes to her and grabs her elbow. She pushes him away and walks out of the room.

"Do you know me?" Chuck sounds the same and I almost start crying, just remembering the last thing I said to him, the last promise I made to him, to find his mother. I nod, unable to speak. "Can you talk? Will you say something to me, Tom?"

"You died. You died in my arms." My voice hasn't gotten better in the long silence of my panic. I barely get the words out. I look down onto the unfamiliar bed sheets. He falls silent until I hear a voice from the hallway.

"He's what? When did this happen? Why didn't anyone tell me sooner? I could've ditched, I was just grabbing a damn blizzard with Mark and Bert." Then he's standing in the doorway, a Dairy Queen cup in his right hand and he's looking at me with those eyes, those eyes that stop my heart. "Hey Tommy." He says it as if it's been five minutes since I've last seen him. Like I didn't put a bullet in his head, like he never sacrificed himself for me.

"OH MY GOD BLIZZARD!" Chuck's attention leaves me entirely he's now staring at the cup in Newt's hand and he reaches for it. Newt takes his left hand and places it on Chuck's forehead, keeping him away from the cup, but his eyes never leave mine.

Newt pushes Chuck back as he walks in and when he reaches it, he places the cup down on the desk. He's pulling a long red plastic spoon out of his back pocket as he still holds Chuck at arm's length away. Then he has let go of Chuck and he's walking towards me. Newt stops at the footboard, his hands resting on the wood. His gaze hasn't wavered, and its intensity has remained unbroken. Then something shifts. He sighs and a grin breaks across his beautiful face.

"You have no idea how good it is to see those baby blues again." A tear streaks its way down his wonderful cheek. Why is he crying just because he gets to see my eyes? Shouldn't he be yelling and punching me for killing him?

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to, it's just you were begging and you were crazy and… And... You didn't want to be a crank!" Then I'm crying again, new wet tears joining the barley-dried snot still on my face. I try to get my hand to move up and wipe my face, but nothing happens.

I can't look at him. I can't look at Chuck, these two people who I've loved most in the world, who both died because of me. Then a weight presses down on the bed to my right. Long fingers wipe away my tears and some of the snot bubbles. He pulls his hands away for a second before they're back on my face. Only now their purpose is not something as temporary as wiping away my tears because I'm immobile. His fingers trace slowly over my eyes, down my cheeks, and over my nose before they stop at my lips.

"Charlie get out." I open my eyes and instantly lock gazes with this beautiful being above me. Neither of us look away, and time slows down to a crawl. He's here, he's with me again, my Newt.

"Mmhmm wha'eveh." There's loud footsteps and I can only guess that Chuck left the room. Newwt just called him something else though… Charlie? The thought puzzles me for long seconds but then Newt bites his lip and the world stops spinning. Everything makes perfect sense again. Just me and Newt, against the world. I'm yanked back to reality when that mouth of his starts forming words, phrases, even sentences.

"I don't know anything about me being crazy here in the real world. Must've been some bloody dream there Tommy."

"Dr-dream?" I look up at him, my eyes feel huge but I can't help it. His voice gets low and he leans in closer to my face. So close that I can now feel his warm breath across my nose.

"You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"Tommy, you've been in a coma for the last year." What? How could this be? I never had a dream. But unfortunately my voice aches too much for me to inquire about all of this. So I simply settle with two words.

"A coma?"

"Yeah, you were shot. You went under in surgery and never woke up." I take a deep breath, trying to remain calm. It's not working to well so I let long minutes of silence stretch between us. When I finally do speak again, it is nothing more than a horse whisper.

"How long did you say?"

"Well…" Newt takes a deep breath through his nose. "Technically you've been out for eleven months, fifteen days, nine hours and twenty minutes, but who's counting?" I let out a bark of a laugh at that.

"I think you were Newt."

"Newt? What's a Newt? Is that Like Newt as in the little frogish thing? Like that thing in Matilda." I freeze.

"My nickname for you?" I'm so confused. If we're human shouldn't we have the same names? But if that's different, then what else changed?

"Alright so I'm Newt. If I may ask, what is that short for?"

"Isaac Newton."

"Okay, so I'm Isaac Newton then. Who are you?" When he says that, I grin to myself. I guess in whatever world I'm in, I can't help but love Newt. I look for the joke in his face, but find no hint of humor in his eyes, he's being serious.

"I'm Thomas." I say and a grin breaks across his face.

"Well that's good, because I don't know if I could handle calling you a different name." We sit there in comfortable silence after that.

A noise comes from his ass and it makes him jump. He shakes his head and pulls out his phone. He answers it and says

"Hey this is Grey I can't talk right now, I've got some stuff to do." He then listens and hangs up.


	2. Parent Up

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

 **Parent Up**

 **Isaac**

"Grey?" His voice is quiet and shaky as he shatters the silence we've been sharing.

"It's my last name."

"Oh... What's my last name?" I swallow and take a deep breath trying to decide if I should answer him.

"Boyd, your last name is Boyd." Luckily it's not me who has to answer him. I look up and see Madilynn standing at the door. Her eyes meet mine and she gives me a weak smile. "At least he remembers you, Isaac."

"You're my mom right?" Thomas deadpans and I watch as the tears threaten to overflow down Maddies cheeks.

"Yes, yes I am your mom. My name is Madilynn Holly Anderson-Boyd. Your name is Thomas Alexander Boyd."

"Do I have a dad?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Colin Kenneth Boyd." She closes her eyes and takes a breath. I know how hard it is for her to talk about Colin. "He." She stops for another second. I can tell she's just barely keeping herself together. "He was in the Marines."

"He was?" Maddie looks like she's about to cry. I see a stray tear sneak its way down her cheek. Thomas must see it too because he lowers his head to stare at his sheets.

"Listen, I just need some time with my son, to try and figure things out." Maddie says meeting my eyes.

Thomas takes a deep breath. "Newt." I pat him on the leg.

"It'll be okay. I'll come back later." I push myself off the bed and straighten up. Then I look at Thomas and his eyes are full of worry so I give him a light smile and lean down to whisper directly into his ear. "She's a good person and she loves you. She's tough as nails and she's been through hell and back for you, so be nice, don't sass her too much and listen to everything she says." I straighten and begin to walk out of the room. As I walk past her, Maddie grabs my arm and her eyes shine with her determination, but also her knowledge that Thomas needs me, and I need him.

"Its fine, I'll go meet up with Bert or someone." She nods and releases my arm. I walk out of the room and down the stairs, not bothering to glance past the kitchen as I exit the house.

 **Thomas**

I just stare at the door that Newt walked out of. Why did I let him do that? I need him here as much as I need air. My eyes meet my mom's and I look away instantly. It's too strange, to suddenly have a mother. I stare at the blanket between my hands and begin attempting to twis it. I don't know what to do. I just sit there and stare at my motioinless hands.

"Thomas?" Long fingers rest on mine. I feel the roughness of her. The calluses of work, the dryness of long hours. I see the dirt, resting under her short, unpainted nails. Small cuts and nicks that most would not notice catch my eye. She must be a gardener. I flick my gaze up to meet her hard features.

She's got high cheekbones and a smaller nose. Her mouth looks well worn, like the rest of her. I don't see my resemblance to her until I really look at her eyes. They've got the same shape that mine do, but to my surprise, hers are storm cloud grey.

"I don't know you." I say in a shaky voice, suddenly nervous.

"I know, baby, I know. But that doesn't matter, because I know you, Tom Cat." The nickname pings something in me, something long and forgotten that feels like someone's sticking a needle in my heart. She seems so kind, so loving, yet tough and rough around the edges. I want her to be my mom, I want to love her.

 **Isaac**

I try not to slam the door to my pale blue prius as I get into the driver's seat. I put my hands on the wheel and stare forward. He's awake. My best friend is awake, and he doesn't remember anything. I bang my head into the wheel and accidentally set the horn off. I look around, having startled myself. No one seems to notice. I then take a deep breath, turn the key in the ignition, switch to reverse and pull out of the overly familiar driveway. I'm driving for maybe five minutes before my Bluetooth picks up a call.

"Grey." I answer automatically, not bothering to check who it is.

"Where did you go? You said you were going home." It's Bert and my heart gives out an involentary flutter, my boyfriend's voice always relaxes me.

"I ended up going to Thomas'. He woke up. And how do you know I'm not home?"

"Because I'm sitting in your driveway. No one's home."

"Give me ten minutes, I'll be there as fast as I can."

"I'll be inside." He whispers in a dark voice that sends shivers down my spine then hangs up. I need to get home, now. My foot becomes lead and I push my car, not caring about anything else, defensive driving be damned.


	3. Boyfriend Up

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my brain.

 **Boyfriend Up**

 **Isaac**

I slam the door to my car. I push the door open as fast as humanly possible and then I'm running like mad up the stairs.

I honestly don't remember the last time I booked it up all six flights to my apartment. It's been a rather confusing afternoon and frankly, I'm ready to forget about it. I bang face first into my front door and stumble back, dazed.

The door is then pulled inward and standing there, grinning at me is my favorite person, Albert Raymond. A sheepish smile spreads across my face.

"What did the door ever do to you?" I can hear laughter in his voice.

"It got in between you and me."

He chuckles. "So you had to run into it?"

"Yes." I breathe, then I can't take it anymore and I'm grabbing his shoulders, pulling him to me.

 **Thomas**

Worst thing about being in a coma for a year? I can't move. Like, I can sort of move my arms, but my legs are hopeless. A year of laying in a bed has rendered my muscles drastically unused and weak. My mom isn't helping in the slightest. She wouldn't leave me alone until I finally convinced her to go make me tea. She's been down there for about two minutes and it's been heaven.

Surprisingly enough, I miss Isaac. Not Newt, the actual, real life Isaac. It's not the normal missing either, it's that nasty kind of chest ache missing, like part of me is missing. I guess I should be used to the feeling by now, I was dealing with the grieving process back in the dream. God, just that word; dream. It can't be what it was, the Maze felt so real, so substantial. I never thought that any of this could happen.

And now what? I'm supposed to readjust and fall back into the routine of normal life. But how can I do that if I can't even move my legs!? Isaac said something about me being shot, but the only time I've ever been shot was in the Scorch.

The door creaks open and my mom, holding a steaming army green mug, steps though.

"Hey hon. We need to do some business talk." I somehow manage to push myself onto my elbows and push myself up against the headboard.

"Okay. What kind of business talk?"

"Well I've called your doctor and she's on her way over. I know for a fact you'll have to go through serious physical therapy." I groan and she wipes at her face. I notice she's been doing that a lot.

"Hey mom, it's okay. I'm tough, I'll pull through." She nods but wipes her face again.

"I know baby, you always were." Silence settles over us after that.

"Hey mom."

"Yes honey?" She smiles at me and walks over to put the mug on my bedside table.

"Where's my dad?" She freezes at that, her arm in half descent to the table and I know I've hit a sore spot.

"He's not around anymore." Her voice is shaky and she gulps several times after she gets the words out.

"He's dead isn't he?" And that's when the tears start.

 **Isaac**

"Tom's back." It's the first thing I've really said since I got home, half an hour ago. He leans back from me and just blinks.

"What do you mean he's "back"?"

"Exactly that. He woke up today." I feel the grin spread across my face and within seconds my cheeks ache.

Bert's face holds an expression that is a mix of disbelief, sorrow and what looks like the faintest hint of anger. He swallows before his voice croaks out.

"What?"

"He woke up!" I say again, holding the same enthusiasm as before.

"Why are you so goddamn happy about it!?" He yells and I flinch, standing up and moving away from him.

"Because he's been my best friend since we were five. I thought you'd be excited that he's back."

"Why would I be excited that my boyfriend's ex is back in my life? Especially since you still love him!" He's still yelling and I feel my eyes widen.

"Wow. Wow wow wow. What, you think that now that he's back I'm just going to jump his bones? You think that all our relationship is is just going to fall apart now that Thomas' back?" My own voice rises at this. I'm starting to get angry.

"You've done it before! Thomas was with Theresa before you!"

"Don't pin that on me! That was all Thomas" I'm full on yelling now.

"No it wasn't! In case you didn't notice, it takes two people to have sex Ise."

I can't even respond to that I'm so angry. I open my mouth but nothing comes out except an especially angry huff of air.

"See you're not even trying to deny it!"

"So I'm not allowed to make mistakes?"

"One mistake, yes. But you two were together for a long ass time."

"And this is your business how?"

"Because you're the reason he got shot in the first place!"

We both stand there, panting for an entirely different reason than our previous activities. He's glaring at me but I don't care anymore. I'm too busy fighting tears to even remotely think about him.

He walks over and tries to touch me but I jerk away from him.

"Ise-"

"Get out." I hiss.

"Ise, come on." I look up and glare at him, harder than I've ever glared at someone before.

"Monster."

That gets a reaction. He lets out a deep breath through his nose, walks over to the door, picks up his messenger bag, and to walks out of the apartment.

I last maybe a minute more before I hit my knees, cover my face with my hands, and start sobbing.

 **Thomas**

I try to stand up, to get out of bed and go to my mother. I've known her for half a day and already I can tell she's not a woman who cries a lot. I try to swing my legs over the edge of the bed. But then I remember, I can't move them. But, my arms are finally coming around.

I grab my right leg and throw it over the side of the bed. I then do this with the left. Turning my body, I plant my hands on both sides of my thighs and push up. I'm standing for maybe thirty seconds before I fall forward, crashing into the wall in front of me and crumbling to the floor. On my way down I reach out for something and end up hitting the lamp sitting on the bedside table. The lamp and I hit the ground with a very audible thud that causes my mom's head to snap up and look at me.

"Thomas!" She exclaims and stumbles to her feet, trying to get to me. I lift up my left hand and wave her off loosely as I dig my fingers into the wall and try to pull myself to my feet. "Stop Tom!" She yells and I freeze, turning my head to look at her.

Her face is wet, her eyes red. The expression her face holds is one of pure panic. She's panting and her right hand is pressed to her chest. She hasn't made it off her knees and she sits there, staring at me.

"Just stop baby. I'll help you and when the doctor gets here we can talk about what we're going to do to get you back on your feet." I nod and let myself fall back onto my ass. I wonder what New- no, Isaac is doing.


	4. Therapy Up

**Disclaimer:** Still own nothing.

 **Therapy Up**

 **Thomas**

 _The breeze is light, the white clouds in the sky look like wispy, dark grey ghosts. It's my first free day in what feels like decades but it must only be a few months. I'm spending it in my favorite way, with my favorite person, listening to my favorite playlist._

 _I'm in jeans, and a dark green tee shirt. On my feet are my trainers and my hair's a mess._

 _We're laying on the grass together, the music playing out of his phone, mixing with the wind and creating a feeling of bliss on my part. His long left arm is under my mid-back and both my hands as well as my head rest on his chest. The fingers on his right hand are intertwined with my left his thumb tracing small circles on the top of my hand. I close my eyes and breathe him in._

 _He smells like himself, the one scent that always makes me think of heaven and eases me into never ending relaxation. His dark blue V-neck tee shirt is soft against my face and his low waisted dark wash jeans hang on his hips. He is undeniably attractive, his light brown hair the perfect length for tangling your fingers in._

 _"So Tommy, you wanna do something?" His dark voice rolls over me and it takes me a minute to realize he said something._

 _"What?" I ask, his words having no meaning to my relaxed and dozing brain._

 _"Us. Move. Sometime soon?" I press my face harder against his chest and snuggle closer to him._

 _"I'm good here, Isey." The old nickname makes him chuckle lightly and press a kiss into my head._

 _"We shouldn't just lay here all day." He vaguely remarks as his left arm bends at the elbow and his muscular forearm folds around my waist._

 _"We're not just laying here. We are cuddling." I say in a tone of mock offense._

 _"There is this thing called homework Tommy."_

 _"Pssh. Homework is overrated." I whine. He laughs._

 _I shake his fingers out of mine, pry his arm off of me and sit up, stretching my arms above my head. I listen to the chorus of pops in my shoulders and back. I pull my left leg in and begin to stand up when his long arms wrap around my waist and yank me back down onto his chest. I smile and chuckle softly._

 _"What happened to doing something?" I question. He rests his chin on top of my head, my nose nuzzling against his collarbone._

 _"Changed my mind. I'm not ready to let you go yet."_

 _"There is thing called homework Ise."_

 _"I'm doing homework right now."_

 _"What kind of homework are you doing?"_

 _"Mark wrote "snuggle time with Tommy boy" on my planner. I have to do it."_

 _"I don't think that's real homework."_

 _"It is. This assignment is actually worth 39% of my grade."_

 _"What class is telling you to snuggle me?" He laughs at that, a truly happy sound that I have fallen in love with._

 _"Sexology."_

 _"That is not a real thing."_

 _"It is. It's the hardest class I'm taking." I laugh at how serious he sounds._

As I sit here in the car, I think about the dream I had last night. It felt like more than just a dream though, most of my dreams have been about the maze. The weird thing is it's staying with me, I remember this dream even better than some moments of the trials now. The doctors say that the trials will fade from my memory with time, as I start to remember my old life. I told Maddie about the dream and she said it sounded like something that would've happened in my life. Maddie thinks that last night my dream, was really a memory. I look over to Newt/Isaac. I called him Isey in the dream. He called me Tommy boy. But who is Mark?

Newt/Isaac pushes the gear shift into park. I just stare at the brick building in front of us. Physical therapy. I have to learn how to function again. New-Isaac twists the key and pulls it out of the ignition. He looks over at me and his brown eyes smile at me. I must look like a shank; I can feel my wide eyes and slightly open mouth, wanting to protest but not knowing how. His light, clear laugh breaks the silence and he smiles at me.

"Come on Tommy, it's just physical therapy. You've been through it before."

"I don't remember that!" I exclaim at him, my nervousness bubbling over.

"Not my problem." With that, he unbuckles and pops his door open at the same time. He then swings his long legs out of the car before standing up and slamming the door behind him. I hear him pop the trunk and take a deep breath as I unclasp my seatbelt. I close my eyes and try to relax as I sit there, taking long breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth.

My meditation is stopped by the door next to me being thrown open and the cold autumn air sending chills up my arm.

"It's cold today."

"It's October in Beaverton, 'course it's cold."

"I need a jacket."

"I'm literally wheeling you ten feet, you do not need a jacket."

"Yes I do. I'm not used to outside, I've been in a coma for a year." Newt pauses and groans, grabbing the bottom of his hoodie, pulling the light blue fabric over his head. I can't help but stare at the small portion of flat, toned stomach that flashes as his hoodie pulls his shirt up slightly. After he yanks the thing off his head he throws it at me and it lands in my lap.

"There princess. You happy now?" I look up and grin at him.

"Yes I'm happy." I lift the sweatshirt over my head and pull it on. It's still warm from his body heat and it's rather fuzzy. I pull up the collar a bit and breathe in, it smells like him. That mixed smell of coffee and whatever heavenly cologne he wears causes me to close my eyes.

"Okay princess, wheelchair time." His voice makes me blink out of my daze and look up at him.

"But I don't like the wheelchair." I say in my best Hammy impression. He rolls his eyes at me.

"I don't care. It's either the wheelchair or you're on my back." I blush at that and he smirks. Then before I can protest any more, he's sweeping his right arm under my knees and his left arm across the middle of his back.

"Hey. What the?" I ask in alarm. That's when I'm unceremoniously dumped into the squishy chair on wheels. Isaac puts his hands on the arms and leans down to my face.

"If you wanted someone who would baby you, you should've asked Charlie to bring you."

"But he can't drive!" I whine again.

"Oh no, poor princess Thomas! The nice kid can't drive you to physical therapy! You're obviously going to die!" He says, mocking me as he stands up straight and moves to stand behind me. He slams the door closed, locks his car, and starts pushing me towards the building.

"I don't wanna go!" I whine over and over again until he pushes me through the door.

"Oops, too late. We're here." I watch as he signs me in and then he pushes me over next to a chair where we sit and wait. We don't sit there very long, maybe five minutes until a man walks into the room, checks in with the receptionist and walks over to us. The man has gray hair, is rather thin and his face is long, slightly resembling a rat in some aspects.

 **Isaac**

"Hello my name is Decklan Austin-Janson. I'll be working with Thomas during his rehabilitation." He give us a smile that looks more like a grimace of pain rather than something happy. I look over to Thomas and see that he has paled. I look back at the man, trying to figure out what connection he has to Thomas. The only thing I'm getting from Thomas about this guy is that Thomas is terrified of him.

"I'm sorry, have I met you before?" Thomas asks in a shaky voice.

"I worked with you when you broke your ankle a few years ago. Your mom requested me." The grimace doesn't fade and I have to look away from his face back to Thomas.

"Was he in your dream?" I question and Thomas just nods, very slowly. I lean back and curse inwardly, this guy must've been something really bad.

"Okay then Thomas, let's go back into my little room and get you started." Janson says and walks around behind Thomas and starts pushing him away to the door that must lead to his office. Tom turns and gives me one last look of desperation before the door closes behind him and Janson.

I sit there, staring at the door that they left through for maybe ten minutes before my phone starts ringing. I look down to see who's calling me, it's Charlie. I stand up, and walk out of the room and onto the sidewalk. I hit the answer button and bring the phone to my right ear.

"What?" I snap.

"Well isn't someone feisty today?" Charlie's slightly childish voice meets my harsh tone.

"What do you want Sanderson?"

"Just wanted to check in on my boys, Grey."

"Well "your" boy's are at Tommy's physical therapy."

"Oh. What doctor is he seeing?"

"Janson." I say as I bring my left hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose and I begin pacing.

"He's pretty good. Didn't Thomas see him when his leg got all screwed?"

"Yeah, but apparently Janson was in Tommy's dream and based on Tom's reaction, they weren't exactly best friends."

"Well doesn't Thomas remember that Janson is a homie?"

"He's got serious amnesia Char, he doesn't remember anything from the real world." My throat starts getting choked up and my words come out wrangled.

"Oh." Charlie is silent for a minute, then he speaks again. "How are you holding up, Ise?" I let out a strange scoff at that.

"How am I holding up? My best friend just woke up from a coma and he doesn't remember me and my boyfriend-." I have to stop at that, the tears having overflown out of my eyes and dripping down my cheeks.

"Your boyfriend what?" Charlie asks softly, detecting that this is a touchy subject.

"He dumped me." I say, barely above a whisper.


	5. Best Friend Up

**Disclaimer:** Nope.

 **Best Friend Up**

 **Isaac**

I'm lying on Mark's couch, my head near the middle and my feet dangling over the armrest. I came over for a English project that we're doing together but as Mark paces behind me and practices his speech my mind is everywhere except on the subject at hand. Mark stops talking and moving but I don't notice until he's leaning over the back of the couch smacking me on the chest repeatedly. He says my name with each smack until I look up to glare at him.

"Okay spill your guts dude." I give him a questioning look and he scoffs. "Don't play innocent I know you didn't just silently listen to me babble, so sit up and spill." I push myself into a sitting position and look at him.

"I think I'm in love with my best friend." I deadpan. He puts both his hands up and backs away from the couch a little.

"Whoa dude, I know I've got a great personality and looks that kill, but I'm the straight one remember? Like, it's not that I don't think you're hot and all, but I'm still gunning for the chicks." I pick up a pillow and throw it at him.

"Not you. I don't know how anyone could fall for such a dipshit idiot." He brings up a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"Well I am astounded. How can you not love me?" He tries to flip his hair and fails, greatly.

"Because I think I'm still in love with Tommy boy." He's instantly leaning over the couch again and wiggling his eyebrows at me. He takes a fake British accent that I know is supposed to be me.

"Oh Tommy boy! How could I not love you Tommy boy! I will write odes to your glorious posterior!-" I know he had more but I chose that moment to pick up another pillow and smack him over the head with it. He melts down until he's on the ground, laughing for all he's worth.

"You plebe! You should know that we all have to be careful with Thomas right now. I can't just walk over and plant one on him." He shoots up to his knees at that.

"So if he hadn't just gotten out of a coma you'd walk over, grab him and make out with him for all you're worth?"

"I don't know. I probably wouldn't snog him I know that." The fake accent comes back.

"Snog." He says the word slowly. I hit him with the pillow again. He fends me off then stands up. "Okay okay, serious time." he drops the accent as well. "So Charlie told me that Tommy has new names for all of us."

"Yeah he does. I actually spent a day asking him and I think I figured out who's who."

"Okay, so let's use that. Whenever any of us are around Thomas we'll call each other these names.

"Yeah, that sounds good. I think that might help the transition."

"Okay so first things first, what's your name loverboy?"

"I'm Newt."

"What the hell is a Newt?"

"Newt as in Isaac Newton, apparently the names are supposed to come from really famous dead people."

"Okay so what's my name?"

"Minho."

"Where the hell does that come from?"

 **Thomas**

I'm laying in my bed working on this thing for school. Apparently if I can prove to the school that I know as much as a beginning sophomore they'll let me go back to school and I'll just have been held back a year. I won't be in the same grade as New-Isaac but still, at least I'll get to go to school.

My mom told me my sister was coming home from college today so I get to meet her. I just can't get used to the fact that I have a mom and a sister. I'm still in therapy and they say that my memories will come back but I wish they would hurry up. I want to remember more than anything else. There's a knock at my door and my mom sticks her head in.

"Honey, your sister just got here, do you want to meet her?" I put the book aside and nod. Finally I'll get to meet this sister of mine.

My mom backs away and the person who walks through the door shocks me. How is this possible, how can she be my sister? It takes me a minute to realize I'm gawking. She laughs lightly and gives me that smile. That smile that I missed more than anything. My girlfriend, no, sister laughs.

"Surprised to see me kid?" That shakes me out of it.

"What's your name?" I demand.

"Brenda." Worry fills her face. "Do you not remember me? Mom said that you thought she was dead in that dream world of yours."

I shake my head. "No I remember you, you just had a very different relationship with me."

"Do you hate me now? Did I hurt you in there? Oh god, you must despise me." I laugh a little. "Why are you laughing? This is very serious."

"I'm laughing because in my dream we were dating." She grins.

"Well thanks kid, but in this world I'm your sister, and I'm engaged." I nod.

"I think in this world I'm in love with someone else anyway. But I'm glad that you're my sister and that you resemble the person you were in my dream."

"Did someone drastically change?"

"It was Theresa she seemed like a different person."

"I'm gonna tell you a secret kid. She's only been like that since you went under. She used to be pretty cool." I let out a sigh.

"So I'm not crazy?"

"Nope. Many other things, but not crazy."

"That's good news." I say and lean back into the pillows on my bed. "It's good to know, in all of this I'm not crazy."

"So I'm just curious because you said something, but who do you think you're in love with in this world?" I turn bright red at the question. This is my sister, and even if I don't remember that, this is Brenda. I can definitely be vague and she'll still get it.

"I think I'm in love with my best friend."


	6. Buck Up Son

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my brain.

 **Buck Up Son**

 **Isaac**

 _"Did you just come over to tell me that?" His volume matches mine and he pushes his face even closer to mine. Now all that's between us is the breath that we keep sharing._

 _"Yep. I just came over to tell you to eat something." I start to pull away from him, but before I can blink he's got his warm hand on the back of my neck._

 _"You know I haven't seen you for a while." He tips his head back a little more so his face is now parallel with mine._

 _"Yeah." I force myself to swallow. "I've been busy."_

 _"Oh. Cause you know, last time we saw each other, you said some things." His pinkie starts tracing circles in my hairline. I have to close my eyes and tilt my head away from him just to hold myself back._

 _"Yeah, I know that last time I saw you I said some things that you weren't ready for." That's when his lips press against my throat and my eyes snap open._

 _"Who said I wasn't ready for it?" He runs his fingers up into my hair and pulls gently on the back of my head. His lips move against my throat as he continues to whisper. "You would never guess this, but I've liked you for a long time. I even got Mark to tell me some things about you."_

 _"Ye-yeah?" My voice cracks and he chuckles against me._

 _"Yep." He pops the p and I let out an involuntary groan._

 _"What did Mark tell you?"_

 _"Little things."_

 _"Like what?"_

 _"Like how you like it when a guy pulls on your hair." He tugs harder at that and I groan again. "and how you like it when a guy sucks on your pulse." At that he starts sucking at my neck. "and how you like it when…" His other hand snakes down my body to grab my belt buckle and at that I just lose it._

 _I grab him by the back of his head and press my lips against his firmly. I take my other hand and run it through his hair. Oh, god how I've wanted this._

"I will murder you!" He yells at me as I fend off his weak fists with my arms.

"You're not tough enough to even try Tommy."

"But- but I hate this version of you!"

"The version of me that's trying to help you get back in school? The version that carts you around? But no, you must really hate how I fuel your Big Mac addiction." He stops hitting me and I lower my arms.

He falls into my line of sight and I look at him, I really look at him. No I didn't look at him, I studied him, and I memorized him. Giggling and happy, looking at me like he used to in the old days and I remember. I remember all the reasons he's great and all the reasons why I love him. Suddenly I'm blinking, fighting all my tears that I've left unshed.

I never cried about it. I didn't stop and think about how I lost my best friend, I just kept going. Like how after my dad died, I didn't cry then. I was six, I had been living in upstate London when the accident happened. A car crash. My mum was riding shotgun, I was in the backseat, and my dad was driving. A drunk driver plowed into us from the side.

My dad died before the ambulance got there. My mum and I ended up okay but after that day she decided she didn't want me. So she shipped me off to her little brother. He's a middle school teacher with no girlfriend and no social life but he's alright.

I don't think that my uncle knew what to do with me when I first got here. There were a few awkward conversations about how Oregon was cool and that I'd make friends soon but that was it. We don't talk about my dad. We don't talk about my mum. We just keep going, we just keep coexisting.

If anything really bad happens my grandparents show up. My grandma cooks everything she can get her hands on and then at the end of the day, my grandpa claps one hand on the back of my shoulder and just says "Buck up son, it could be worse."

That's what he told me when I was six and I got moved to a different country, right after my dad died. That's what he told me when I was thirteen and I came out to my mum, only to have her tell me that I was a disgrace and that I should just go die. That's what he told me when I was fifteen and mum finally hung herself. But last year, when Thomas went under only three months after my grandma and his wife of forty years died to heart failure, he looked at me, all sad in his eyes and said "Son, sometimes these things just happen."

That's it. That's the Wilkinson's entire view on life. When bad things happen we don't stop, we don't cry, we just push on. And that's how I act, I don't bother to stop I just keep going. Everyone needs me to.

Only Thomas didn't, he never did. We met when we were eleven, on the first day of sixth grade. I was alone, I didn't have any friends in elementary school, just bullies. That's how we met actually, some of the old bullies from fifth grade thought it'd be fun to push me down on the ground and start kicking me. Thomas wasn't like anyone else. Most kids just looked away and kept on going, there were a few who stopped to stand and watch. I remember the first time I looked at Tom. The bullies were taking a temporary break to congratulate each other and switch kickers and Thomas slid up next to me, poked me in the arm and asked the one question no one else had the courage to. "Do you need help?" I nodded, half expecting him to jump up and try to beat the bullies but then the logistics started running through my head. There were at least five of them and one of him and hell, he was skinny and short while they were burly and big. But he didn't fight them he turned around and started running down the hallway yelling "Teacher! I need a teacher!" at the top of his lungs. It was the best day of my life. It was the only day since moving to America that I saw kindness out of another child and it was truly uplifting.

But as I sit here and look at him I know he doesn't remember that day. He doesn't remember how he saved me and that kills me. I can look at him in a thousand different ways and he will always be Thomas, the boy that stood up for everyone and never knew when to stop being kind. The one person in the world who I know that I could trust entirely.

When my grandfather would say "Buck up son" Thomas would look at me with those stupidly big blue eyes and ask "You want to talk about it?" He got me through the hell that was my life. He introduced me to Mark and later to both Bert and Charlie. Thomas is the reason we're all friends, he's that magic glue that holds us all together and he doesn't remember doing any of it.

Before I notice my eyes get all watery and the image of Thomas I see blurs. I blink like always, trying to suppress it but I can't. I turn away from Thomas, putting him to my back.

"Newt?" He tests. I shake my head. He attempts again "Newt what's wrong?"

"Nothing." I sniffled back.

"You want to talk about it?" He suggests and I turn to look at him again. He's got his look on his face, his patented "I'm here for you" look that only he, Thomas Alexander Boyd can pull off. I know that expression, that exact arrangement of his wide eyes and the slight cock of his head has made me spill my guts to him many times before.

I shake my head at him.

"Well that's alright, you know we don't have to talk, we can just sit here in mutual silence for a while, that works too." I know he's pressing me, he wants information.

I swallow, take a big gulp of air, then set my jaw and face him. "I love you Thomas. I love you not in the way that one loves one's best friend and certainly not in the way one loves one's brother. But there's this problem see, where I love you as you were and as I hope you still are, but the thing is, you don't remember who that is. And it's not like I can't handle you not remembering me or your life, because I can. But I can't handle how you don't remember how you saved me, how you saved all of us. I can't handle how I know the expressions on your face better than I know my own, but you don't. And I don't know how to be in the same room as you without feeling this way and wanting you. Oh god, how I want you." He tries to say something but I keep talking successfully hushing him.

"But I understand how you are confused and scared and you don't know what's going on. So for that reason I will let you be and withdraw myself from your life until you can remember. Because in truth it is bad for me to sit here and look at you, wanting you to be something that you're not. I don't want to pressure you at all to remember and I hope that you understand why I'm going to walk away now and let you be. So, goodbye Thomas." His mouth hangs slightly open as I stand up and gather my things. His eyes follow me and the astounded expression remains pinned to his face. Before I leave though, I walk over and press a kiss onto his hairline. "I'll miss you." I whisper, wrapping my hand around his neck and pressing my face against his forehead. I place another kiss to his temple before pulling away and leaving his house, possibly for the last time.


	7. Wise Up

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my brain.

 **Wise Up**

 **Thomas**

I'm sitting next to Brenda. We're in line at a fast food restaurant near my house. Apparently this has been wheremy friend group hangs out for years. The menu is brightly colored and I read the things listed. God, this would be a hell of a lot easier if I remembered what kind of food I liked. They have these things called "Blizzards" and Brenda has informed me that they are made of ice cream and a substance of my choice (as long as the choice is listed on the menu)

"Hey hottie, you in line?" I break my concentration from the menu to look at the guy smirking at Brenda only to have her roll her eyes. I blink a few times, not entirely registering who's there. I look at the way he's standing, how he's holding himself. The something clicks, and it's Minho.

I watch as Minho orders himself a cheeseburger than at the motion of Brenda, takes me and pushes me over to a wheelchair friendly table. He sits down to my left. We just sit and stare at each other, neither of us talking. One of the workers comes over and hands Minho his food. This changes him, it's like the food relaxes him. After he takes a few bites he puts down his food and looks at me.

"Okay, ask me Tommy boy." I blink a few times in confusion.

"Ask you what?" He chuckles at that a little.

"I don't know, whatever you wanna I guess. You've got this look on your face that makes you look a little queasy but normally it means you've got a question."

"Oh. Well yeah, I guess I do have some questions." At that he reclines back in his red chair and lifts his eyebrows at me.

"Ask away."

"Who is in our friend group?"

"Well there's you, Thomas. Me, Mark or Minho or whatever. Isaac who is Newt I think. Then there's Charlie and Bert whose other names I don't know. Lindsey used to hang out with us but since you went under she hasn't been." I swallow.

"Why does Newt hate me?" Minho barks out a laugh but once he looks at my face his expression hardens.

"He doesn't hate you."

"Then why did he leave me?"

"Because he loves you Tom. He loves you so much that it's killing him to see you not be you." He cocks his head at me. "I thought he told you all of this."

"He did, I just wanted to make sure it was true."

"Honestly, I've never seen Ise lie." I nod.

"How did we become friends?" I ask in a quivering voice.

"What you and Ise or you and me?"

"Either."

"Well we became friends because of our dads. They were both deployed and I was having a really hard time handling the fact that my dad was gone. You found me one day, on the playground. We were in third grade and I was crying. Again, might I add. I used to cry a lot."

"You came over to me and asked what was going on and I told you. You were the first person to really listen to me and you were the only person that I could sympathize with. You got me through it. And for the longest time I felt like I owed you for that." I cut in at that.

"You don't owe me anything." I say and he barks again.

"I know, you already came to collect." At my look of confusion he shakes his head and keeps talking. "When you're dad died. You hit a really dark place. No one really knew what to do with you. Ise tried but he's so damn uncommunicative he didn't couldn't really do anything. It got to the point where the idea of talking to you would give him an anxiety attack."

"I was the only one who could stand to be around you. You had become this brooding bastard who sucked the life out of anyone you even looked at. It was rough, it was real rough." He sighs. "I eventually dragged your ass around and got you back to normal." He smiles at that and pops a fry into his mouth.

 **Isaac**

"Get up kid." My head is struck with a shoe. I look up to see my uncle standing in the doorway to my bedroom, staring at me.

"I don't want to." I mumble into my pillow.

"You've spent the entire weekend in that bed. You need to move at some point."

"No I don't." I say squirming deeper under my covers.

"Come on kid, you got home on Friday and since you've been glued there. Just come outside and eat dinner." At that I grab the bowl that I've been eating all of my meals out of for the past two days and angle it at him.

"Just put some of whatever you're eating in this. God knows, it's had enough other crap in it over the weekend." He sighs and walks over to grab it.

"You do know that I wash this before I put the next meal in it right?" I shake my head. He picks up the bowl and starts walking away. He gets to the door before he turns and looks at me again. He lets out a deep breath, puts the bowl down on my dresser then sits down on my bed. I look up at him and meet his eyes. "Okay child, spill your guts. What happened?"

"Nothing." I say, burying my face in my pillow.

"Please kid, it's most definitely not nothing."

"Yes it's nothing." I say picking up the pillow and putting it on top of my head.

"No it's Thomas." I groan. "Tell me what happened."

"I'm leaving him alone."

"Why? Did you fight?"

"No." my voice cracks. "It's just too hard for him not to remember who he is."

"But you love him right?"

"Yes, of course I love him."

"But him not remembering is too hard?"

"Yes." I snap.

"Oh so you can't remind him of who he once was?"

"I don't want to pressure him."

"Sometimes people need pressure."


	8. (Don't) Eat Up

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my brain.

 **(Don't) Eat Up**

 **Isaac**

 _He's got his head propped up on his right hand, his elbow digging into the table. His eyelids are drooping in exhaustion. He had another dream last night. I look down at the textbook I'm supposed to be studying from. What is this for? Oh yeah, stem chem. I can study later, though. He's much more of a priority to me._

 _I slam my book closed noisily and he jumps, as well as the rest of them. A girl sitting at the table in front of us whips around to glare at me, only for her harsh gaze to melt into one of obvious attraction. I slide my journals into my messenger bag, along with my textbook, and buckle it closed. I pull the strap onto my shoulder and stand up. I stop behind Thomas, waiting for him to look at me._

 _When his lazy gaze finally drifts up to my face, I give him a soft smile and pull at his dark green long sleeve._

 _"Come on."_

 _He gives me a mock glare with his blue eyes. "Why?"_

 _"Because you're about to fall asleep, Tommy."_

 _"I'm aloud to sleep."_

 _"Not in a library."_

 _"Oh my god, just go with him, Tommy boy!" It's Mark, looking up to glare at us._

 _"Okay, I'm going Mark, geeze." Thomas puts his hands up in surrender and grabs his textbook, shoves it into his forest green backpack and stands up, slinging the bag over one shoulder as he does so._

 _I don't say anything else as I lead him out the door and into the school hallway. He follows at my heels, not bothering to get next to or ahead of me. I take a left and scan the corridor. Seeing that it's empty, I drop my bag next to the wall, put my back against a locker and slide down onto the floor so I've got my left leg outstretched and my right bent._

 _"Spill it."_

 _"Spill what?"_

 _"The reason you can't sleep."_

 _"I had to study."_

 _"Bullshit."_

 _"I've been having dreams."_

 _"Dreams?"_

 _"Yes, dreams."_

 _"Are they dreams or nightmares?"_

 _His voice becomes a whisper. "Nightmares."_

 _I lean forward, hooking my arms around my right knee and sitting up slightly. "Are they about your dad?"_

 _He sinks to his knees, then lands, ungraceful as ever, on his ass. "Yeah. I just, keep seeing him die."_

 _"Is this just one moment?"_

 _He shakes his head._

 _"Well then what else is it?"_

 _"Well first I'm on the battlefield with him. But as soon as I watch him die the image changes to something even worse."_

 _"What happens?" I softly ask._

 _"You die."_

 _I almost fall over as shock overtakes me. I die in his dreams. Am I something more than a friend now? I hold back my more detailed questions and ask him something that should most completely sum up the entire thing._

 _"Why is me dying so important?"_

 _"Because I'm scared of losing you."_

 _I don't say anything. I can't say anything. Silence stretches between us. I finally swallow and give him a loopy smile. "Is that all?"_

 _He shakes his head. "I think I might be in love with you." I swallow. Crap. How long have I dreamed of this moment, and now that it's here, I can't say anything. "No, not think." He continues and his words feel like they're crushing me. I look down at the floor, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm certain I'm in love with you." I snap my head up to look at him._

 _He's got his head in his hands, his dark hair falling around his fingers. He thinks I don't love him, he thinks I'm not interested. In less then a second I'm on my feet, marching over to him. He looks up at me, his eyes watery and confusion on his face. I reach down, grab the collar of his shirt and yank him to his feet._

 _"Ise what are you-" he stops talking as I've backed him up and slammed him into the lockers on the wall._

 _"How dare you?" I hiss at him._

 _"I'm sorry, I figured it wouldn't be a big deal seeing as you're gay and all." His voice is so apologetic I almost shut him up right then, but I refrain from doing what I've wanted to do for months, years even._

 _"How dare you not tell me sooner?" I growl out._

 _"Wait you're not-" I never hear the end of the sentence as I press my lips against his, hard._

"Stop being such a dick." I let out a great deal of air from my nose and close the door directly in Mark's face. I turn around and start to walk back to the couch. I've been sitting on it for most of the day and I've almost finished completing the butt imprint that I've secretly been working on for years.

I've barely sat down when the door opens and my best friend slams his way inside. He walks over and plops down next to me.

"So what we watching coward?" I look over and glare at him. His eyes meet mine and he raises his eyebrows at me. "What? Did I say something that offended you?" I don't say anything, just kick him in the shin. "Whoa calm down buddy boy. No need to get violent."

"There's plenty of reason to get violent." I hiss under my breath. Mark takes a deep breath before turning his head and meeting my unbroken harsh gaze.

"He's not eating." That wipes out my emotions. Those three little words that seem like nothing to a regular person, but mean everything to me.

"How-" I stop and swallow down the fear in my voice. "How long?"

"Four days." I stand up at that and turn to yell at him.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't know you idiot!" He lowers his head into his hands. "No one knew." A silence stretches between us.

"Just like last time."

"Yeah." He lets out a shuddering breath. "Just like last time."

 **Thomas**

I'm all set up here, at the dining table in the room adjacent to our kitchen. I'm reading a book for my high school makeup tests. I close my eyes and lean back in my wheelchair.

That's when it happens. I get a flash of something, it feels like a vision, or a dream but in it I see them, I see my family.

 _There are textbooks and journals covering the most of the table. I'm sitting in the same place I am now, only Isaac is sitting across from me, smiling, laughing. Oh god, how it feels for me to see him laugh. I look to my left and I see Teresa sitting there and glaring at someone at the other end of the table. She looks like she should. In a black long sleeve shirt and a dark green army jacket. Her hair is just hanging loose around her shoulders._

 _There's a thud to my right and I whip my head around to find the cause of the noise. It's Charlie and Mark, of course. Charlie's got something in his hand that he's shielding while Mark's leaning over him._

 _"Come on kid, just let me see what she said."_

 _"No! My relationships are none of your business Mark!"_

 _"Oh so it's a relationship is it?" My gaze flicks over to Isaac at his teasing. He's smirking in the general direction of the others._

 _"Just shut up! All of you!"_

 _"Oh come on Charlie, at least tell us what her name is." I hear myself speak only my voice doesn't sound like it does now. I don't sound remotely confused by the situation at hand._

 _"Now don't you start on him to Thomas. He's just a little kid." Theresa snaps._

 _"Ooh boys best quiet down, before mommy puts her foot down." Isaac meets my eyes just as a pencil hits him in the side of the head._

"Thomas. Thomas." It's my mom, she's shaking me by the shoulders. I blink a few times before I meet her worried eyes. "Honey what happened? I left you here for ten minutes. Just ten minutes." She closes her eyes and lowers her head.

"Mom, it's okay. I-I think I just remembered something." Her head snaps up at that she gives me a small smile.

"That's great honey. Do you want something to eat now?" I shake my head.

"Still no mom, I'm not hungry."

"But it's lunchtime dear. Please, just eat something."

"Mom, I had a big breakfast remember? Brenda made it for me." Her eyes fill with worry at that.

"Honey, that was on Wednesday. Today is Sunday."

"Oh." I laugh at myself. "Yeah I guess it was. Sorry all the days kind of blur together. Well I'm sure whatever I've eaten today has been super filling." Her expression doesn't change.

"You haven't eaten anything since that meal Tom Cat."

At that I begin to think, I think really hard. I think about the last few days and how I've spent every minute studying, or in some kind of therapy. I try to think about eating and I realize she's right, I haven't eaten since that meal.

"Well… I'm still not hungry." I watch as she grimaces at my words. "Mom what's wrong? Why are you so obsessed with my eating habits?" She closes her eyes and takes a long breath.

"Because Tom Cat, you were anorexic."

 **Isaac**

I've barely finished slamming the door to Mark's car when I start running up the driveway. I don't even bother to knock as I shove the door open to the Boyd household. Maddie see's me from her position in the kitchen.

I don't even have to ask her where he is, she seems to read my mind and she just juts her chin towards the dinning room that I know is on the other side of the kitchen. I briskly walk through her kitchen before slamming into the next room. The door smacks into the wall next to it rather noisily which causes Thomas to look up at me.

He looks fairly alright. His eyes are a little less sunken and his face is a little less pale. His mouth is open and forms a small o shape as he gapes at me. I walk over to him and slam my hands on the table directly in front of him. His eyes go as wide as plates and he starts to fumble for words. I cut him off before he can say anything by leaning in close to his face.

"Why have you not been eating?" I hiss, keeping my voice low and trying not to let too much of my fear and anger slip through.

"I kind of forgot to." His voice is high and I can tell that I've scared him the tiniest amount.

"Well the last time you forgot to eat you ended up in the hospital for a week." I lean in even closer so there's only a finger width between us.

"Uh…" I've stumped him but honestly, I can't remember why I was mad any more. I can feel his warm breathe on my face and all I can stare at are his lips.

I swallow to try and get some moisture in my dry mouth. "Right then," I'm whispering now. "I think I'll let you be so you can eat something." I can feel my breathing become shallower. I need to get away from him before I do something I'll regret.


	9. Falling Up

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my brain.

 **Falling Up**

 **Thomas**

"This is a bad idea." Mark yells from behind us. Charlie is pushing me up this hill and I've gotten Mark and Brenda to come help us with this.

I need this to happen. I need him to see that I'm starting to remember. I need him to see that I'm trying to love him again. That I still love him.

We reach the top of the hill and I see the bench. Yes, this is the perfect spot for this to happen, on the hilltop that overlooks the bench where we first admitted to each other that we were in love. Where I told him that I want him, not Theresa.

"Let's do this thing." I say, looking first up at Charlie and then back to my sister. Brenda smiles and nods at me.

"Alright little bro, where do you want it?" She says, walking over to me with the posts in her hands.

The plan is simple. We set posts in the ground, get me standing with their help, and then simply wait for Isaac to walk over and sit down at the bench.

"This is a really bad idea Tommy boy." Mark says from somewhere behind me.

"Well you didn't have to help." Charlie states with more sass than the situation deems necessary.

"Oh yeah, like you've got enough muscle to keep Tommy boy here standing long enough for the Great Brit to see him." Mark's not going to put up with the fifteen year olds sass. As Brenda kneels down to dig the post holes (?) she giggles to herself.

"What's so funny?" I question.

She laughs a little harder turns to look at me, then gestures to our other friends. "It's funny because it's true!" I let out a light chuckle at that and Charlie lets out a groan next to me.

Mark comes over from behind us and gets down on both of his knees right in front of my face. He grabs the arms of my wheelchair and looks directly into my eyes. "You're absolutely sure you want to do this Thomas?" I nod.

"Yes, I'm absolutely sure. Besides it's a little late to rethink the plan, Isaac is already on his way."

"I can always text him and tell him not to come."

I shake my head. "No need, I really want to do this. I love him." Mark leans back a little way from me.

"Yeah I know, you love him, he loves you, and all that mushy gushy girly crap."

"Hey." Brenda snaps from her position on the ground. "Not all girls like all the love crap."

"You used to like it." Charlie whines. I watch as she snaps her head around to glare at him. She glares so hard and with such intensity that he looks down and mutters "Sorry."

"You're just mad that that Jorge kid dumped your sorry ass." Mark calls half over his shoulder. His eyes meet mine and he chuckles at me a bit.

A clump of dirt and mostly dead grass hits him on the back of the head. "He dumped my what?" The sass and underlying rage is tangible and I lean back in my chair as far as I can.

"Your sorry single ass."

"Oh I'm sorry, did you want a face full of dirt to go with that lovely new hairdo?"

"Maybe you should stop projecting, princess."

"Oh, that was a big word. Do you need to lay down?"

"Guys." I say. I've had enough of their pointless bickering. I guess whether we're here or in some dream, Brenda will always be the queen of sass.

"I see him!" All of our gazes snap over to where Charlie is pointing. I can't see much, but I do see that undeniable mop of dirty blonde hair. My heart rate picks up and my stomach bends into knots.

" _Tommy what are you doing?" His brown eyes meet mine and I grin at him._

 _"I'm pelting you with the burned parts of this popcorn that you made."_

 _"Well knock it off, it's bloody annoying." He turns back and focuses on the movie we're watching._

 _We sit there for a few long moments and I study him. He's leaning back on the couch with his legs stretched out in front of him. His right arm is resting on his thigh while his left arm is stretched across the back of the couch. He lets out a deep sigh and relaxes farther into the upholstery. I decide that now is the time. I pick up another piece of popcorn and launch it at him._

 _It hits him in the temple. His head turns almost mechanically and he glares at me. I grin at him and wiggle my eyebrows._

 _"Oh that is it!" He exclaims as he stands up before tackling me. I reach for the bowl of popcorn and he grabs my hands, holding them above my head._

 _We stay like that, starring at each other for what feels like hours. His breath is warm on my face and it causes my emotions to churn inside of my stomach like warm butter. My eyes flick down to his mouth._

 _He has very nice lips. They're not to big, not to small. Right now they are slightly parted as he leans over me. I'm very tempted to lean up and kiss him._

 _I start pushing my torso towards his and he reacts, but not in the way I want. Instead of leaning toward me as well, he releases my wrists and climbs off of my hips. He backs up until he's against the opposite wall and then slides down it. From the look on his face, he's rather distraught about what just happened._

The memory floods my emotions like nothing I've ever felt before. It washes over me and suddenly I understand so much more about Isaac.

Charlie's flagged him down and he's walking up the hill now. I swallow and lock eyes with Brenda. I nod at her and she leans down to help me get on my feet. I've only been standing for mere seconds before I rock back and almost fall into the chair. Mark saves me by grabbing my other arm. They half carry, half drag me over to the posts that have somehow been miraculously set up.

I use Brenda and Mark as crutches until they get me standing, my hands digging into the posts. The wood hurts my hands but I push the pain down. I'm doing this for Isaac. He needs to see me here. Mark and Brenda let go of me and step back so I'm standing alone.

Pride floods my emotions. I'm actually doing it, I'm standing. I am showing Isaac that I'm trying.

"Isaac!" I yell out. He looks up at me and it feels like I'm flying. I can't see his face very well, but I can make out his astonished grin. I push all of my weight onto my left hand and let go of the right post to wave.

As soon as my hand loses contact with the post I begin to fall forward.

I roll down the hill for agonizingly long seconds before finally the world fades to black.

" _Can you make Theresa not hate me?" He asks, lowering his eyes to meet mine. We're lying in my bed, having post sex cuddle time. He's on his back with his hands behind his head, and I'm on my stomach, arms around his shoulders and chin on his chest._

 _"Why do you care if Theresa hates you?"_

 _"Because she's your girlfriend."_

 _"We're sleeping together, and you care what my girlfriend thinks?"_

 _"Yeah. You know how when married men sleep with their kids nanny? That nanny cares what her mans wife thinks of her." I laugh at that good and hard. My laughter causes him to make his classic "dissatisfaction"; his forehead wrinkles, his lips purse and his eyes get kind of squinty._

 _"That nanny cares because her livelihood depends on what the wife thinks of her. Our situation is more like how kings used to take mistresses. So the mistress knew that the Queen hated her, but she didn't care because her livelihood depends on the king." A nose crinkle is added to his expression._

 _"Who made you the bloody King?"_

 **Isaac**

Time seems to slow down as it happens. I'm standing here, full of pride and hope for Thomas. The feeling is fleeting though, for he lifts his hand to do something. But then he's falling.

He's falling and rolling down our hill. I run for him, but his momentum carries his body away from me. I'm chasing him, Mark is chasing him, we're all chasing him. No one can catch him.

It feels like years we're running after him. Then he stops moving and time speeds up again. Suddenly everything is a blur. We reach him and I pull him into my arms.

"Thomas. Tommy come on." I reach down and for agonizing seconds I can't find his pulse. My heart stops, he can't be dead. Not after everything we've been through. It can't end here.

Then I feel it. The pump of his blood. I start crying. Relief that he is alive mixes with my worry that he's not moving and I just release all my emotions. I lean over his torso and hold onto him. From somewhere behind me I here Charlie calling 911 but I don't care. In this moment I decide that life is to fleeting, I will never let him go again.


	10. Coma Up

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my brain.

 **Coma Up**

 **Thomas**

 _"I think we should sleep together." I say, looking up from the textbook I'm notarizing._

 _Isaac starts making the stammering noise like he's choking. "I-uh, I-I-I." he stopped swallows then looks up and meets my eyes. "What? What?"_

 _"I think we should have sex." I said it plainly, keeping my tone even. He puts his pencil down and starts doing his nervous thing, where he moves his hand back and forth of his eyes and just kind of slides his fingers around his face and neck in a spastic pattern._

 _"You - you what?" I've really got him worked up now, his head is no tilting in different directions and his other hand joins the first, matching the spasticity._

 _I reach over and touch his left wrist. "I. Want. To. Fuck. You. Isaac. Jacob. Grey." He freezes._

 _"But Theresa."_

 _"What about Theresa?"_

 _"You're kind of her boyfriend."_

 _"I don't see your point."_

 _"I thought that you were monogamous. Isn't she going to get mad if you start dating me?"_

 _"So now we have to be dating to have sex?"_

 **Isaac**

They took him to St. Vincent's. He's in a room and he won't wake up. They say he's gone into another coma. It feels like the universe is caving in. I lost him once, and he was gone forever. I can't bear to lose him again, especially after the last few months. I just barely got him back.

I'm sitting in a chair next to his bed, holding his hand. This position is one I'm very familiar with. I'm praying to every deity I can think of, begging for him to wake up again. My heart hasn't left my gut since he fell. I won't be able to handle losing him again. Maddie was in here earlier but she left to make some find coffee.

I'm alone with him and I both love and hate it. Hot tears start running down my cheeks and onto his skin. I love him. I love him so that I cannot think, and I cannot breath, and I cannot remember my own name half the time. Loving him has always been my nature. It's been as easy as breathing.

I stare at him. Staring at him forces me to remember things. Things that I have long pushed down into the darkest parts of my soul. Without even thinking about it I start talking to him.

"Please, please come back to me. I love more than anything. You know that Tommy. You know that you're the light of my life. Please, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry love. I know I handled everything wrong, but please just come back. If you don't come back I can't spend the rest of my life making the past few months up to you."

 _I'm pacing through the entire waiting room. Maddie is standing outside so she can get better service while she tries to get a hold of Brenda. The only person in here with me is Charlie; it seems like a slow night for the children's ER._

 _"Ise can you calm down already? He's in surgery, no amount of your pacing is going to make time move faster."_

 _I turn my path towards him. I stomp until my knees touch his and lean down into his face. "You don't even know what happened kid," my voice cracks a lot and not crying becomes a serious struggle. I take a deep breath before talking again. "So who the hell are you to monitor my pacing?"_

 _"Isaac." The voice sounds both understanding and exasperated. Instantly I know its Mark. I turn around and meet his eyes. It's like someone's taken a sponge and wiped away all my frustration and fear. Now all I'm left with is this raw, heavy sadness. It makes me feel almost dead._

 _Mark seems to know this before I fully register it myself. Within seconds he's walked over to me, and he's pushing my face into his shoulder. Once we're locked fully in our embrace my sobs start back up. These are not the long, cries of someone hurt; they are the short, breathless wheezes of one losing a battle to complete and utter terror._

 _We stand like that for long minutes. Mark runs his comforting fingers through the back of my hair, and keeps his breathing steady against my shallow sobs. I feel Charlie move to a different space at some point but I don't care enough to try and figure out where he goes._

 _More time passes and eventually words start flowing out from me like a river breaking its dam. I don't mean to, but soon I'm telling Mark what happened._

 _"He shot him. He just up and shot my Tommy." The words come out as mere unintended whispers._

 _"Who shot him?" His voice is soft and calm. It grounds me._

 _"Aris. Aris Collins." I feel Mark's body tense and his grip tightens around my shoulders as soon as the name reaches his ears._

 _"I'll kill him. I'll kill the mother fucking son of a bitch." His words are vile in his mouth and he speaks more as if he's imaging spitting than anything._

 _A shallow nervous laugh cuts its way through my sobs. "If your gonna kill Aris you should kill Theresa before."_

 _"Why Theresa before?" He whispers to me._

 _"Because killing Aris will make her mad so she might find someone else to kill you before you can get to her."_

 _"What did she do to deserve dying?"_

 _"She called Aris in." He takes a sharp breathe in and holds it._

 _"What do you mean?" The words are tight and spoken through clenched teeth._

 _"She started screaming all these horrible names at us. We ignored her and kept walking but she didn't stop." I take a deep breath, trying to just stay calm. "Then she-she." I stop again and blink more tears out of my eyes. "She grabbed him, she grabbed Tommy by the back of his hoody." I stop talking and just take slow shuddering breaths. Mark pulls away from me so he can look at me from arm's length._

 _"Why don't you just sit down." It sounds like it should be a question, but it's not. I nod anyway. He pushes me lightly until I ease myself down into the chair that Charlie previously occupied._

 _Mark doesn't even thing about it, he just falls into a sitting position in front of me. I look into his eyes and find the strength that I need._

 _I let long seconds linger between us as I get my breathing under control._

 _"After she grabbed him she." I can't hold his eyes anymore. I look away from him and cover my face with my hand. I try to stop them, but the long withheld slow, burning tears replace the watering of my eyes that I've been able to maintain. "After she grabbed him she yanked him around so that he was facing her." I cringe at how watery my voice sounds but now it's too late to stop, the floodgates have opened, the dam is gone._

 _"What happened after that?" Mark's voice is softer than I've ever heard it before and it just rips my heart out even more._

 _"Sh-she punched him in the nose." My watery whisper is so quiet I'm sure that Mark hasn't heard me. Instead I'm surprised be him grabbing my wrist and pulling my shaking hand into both of his._

 _"How hard did she punch him?"_

 _I use my other hand to wipe at the wetness under my eyes, but I know that I only end up making it worse._

 _"She punched him so that she was the only thing holding him up."_

 _I've bound him speechless._

 _"After Thomas got his feet back under him I grabbed the hand she was holding him with, squeezed until she released him, and then twisted her around and pinned her arm between her shoulder blades. "_

 _"Good boy."_

 _"But then she screamed, good and loud. At first I thought no one heard it." My chest starts feeling tight again. Mark just holds my hand._

 _"That's when," I stop and take another deep breath. "That's when Aris got out of his car." I start to hyperventilate a little._

 _"Hey, stupid brit. Your safe, you're here with me. Were in a fucking hospital for god's sake, no place safer." I give him a small smile and nod._

 _I close my eyes and let myself feel this space. How cold it is, the noise of some random T.V. show playing on an overhead television. Soon breathing becomes less of a conscious task._

 _"Aris yelled "Die fucking faggot." Then he- he shot Thomas." Mark leans in closer._

 _"I'm so sorry Ise." I shake my head._

 _"No you don't understand."_

 _"What don't I understand?" I swallow and look directly into his eyes._

 _"Aris was aiming for me."_

 **Thomas**

 _"You what?" She screeches directly in my face._

 _"I'm in love with someone else Ter." I stay completely calm, after all we are in a Starbucks._

 _"Is she prettier than me?" Her volume remains the same._

 _"No." I deadpan. I thought telling her in a public place would force her to be calmer._

 _"Does she have bigger boobs than me?" Now she's standing._

 _"Can you just calm down?"_

 _At that she plants her hands on my side of the small metal table and leans down so our faces are mere inches apart. "You are telling me that some other goddamn tramp with huge ass tits and an ass the size of Texas has caught your attention and you want me to be calm?" If possible, she gets louder with this, and a little bit of her saliva hits me in the eye._

 _I hold my composer. "I never said anything about my new love being more endowed than you are."_

 _"Oh so your leaving me for a mousey little slut then?"_

 _"No."_

 _"Then what is she then?"_

 _"If you would sit down I would tell you."_

 _"No I want to know which bitch stole you from me."_

 _"But-"_

 _"Tell me now or I'll hack into your Facebook account and figure it out."_

 _"I'm leaving you," I stop and take a deep breath._

 _"Yes we've established this. Now just tell me the name of this skank so I can socially shun her."_

 _"For Isaac."_

 _She stops yelling and falls back into her chair._

 _"Isaac as in your really annoying British friend."_

 _"No. Isaac as in my best friend. Isaac as in the sexiest man I've ever laid eyes on. Isaac as in the person that makes my knees go weak and my stomach fill with butterflies from one look out of the corner of his eye."_

"Please, please come back to me. I love more than anything. You know that Tommy. You know that you're the light of my life. Please, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry love. I know I handled everything wrong, but please just come back. If you don't come back I can't spend the rest of my life making the past few months up to you." I crack open one eye at him.

"Okay, but only if your serious about that rest of your life thing."

 **A.N.** So that's it, the end. Thanks for hanging on for the entire ride.


End file.
